Aimless Wandering
by GypsyMom
Summary: Lilliana Du'Morte is a woman of determination and good intentions. She is also heir to a very dark legacy. When her family and her new found friend are in dire need of being rescued what how is she to fight for them when they need rescuing from her?


A weak voice called her name and she tried to swallow down he bile that threatened to spill up from her gut.

"I'm here." She managed softly, though her back was facing him. She was angrier, more hurt, and felt much more helpless than she ever had. She was on the verge of insanity due to him, and he knew it.

"You came?"

"I shouldn't have."

"You said you wouldn't."

"I know." She shook, her hands against the wall, her head hanging down. Controling herself was much more dificult than she had thought. Taking in a deep breath she turned to face him. The boy was thin, thinner than she had ever seen him. His dark skin had been drained of nearly all pigmentation and now he almost seemed to glow white in contrast to the dark black color of the blood stained sheets. His wrists had been wrapped but the blood still soaked through. It was a vision she knew she would never be able to completely forget, no matter if he lived or died. She took a few steps forward and finally knelt at his side and kissed his forehead gingerly.

"You hate me." He said frankly. She was surprised, but she would not lie to him.

"Yes, I do. I love you so much, Jared. You're my dearest and truest friend. So yes, I hate you for this. I hate you for doing this to me over and over again. If you can see nothing in this world worth living for then why even bother calling me? You don't deserve to have anyone here, you know. I don't know why I came. I shouldn't. I can't keep coming. It's your own doing. If my friendship isn't enough to make you want to live, then why should it be enough to make me want to come and watch you die? You hate me. You must. You know how much it hurts me. You know how this will effect me, but you don't care do you? You would just as soon see me cry as smile. I hate you so much because I love you so much." She was not crying, which was startling to the both of them though entirely understandable. She had simply no more tears to shed for him. He had placed her in this spot too many times for her to show how it still tore her apart.

"Forgive me?"

"No."

"I think I am really going to die this time." He argued bluntly. She looked at the bed and at the sopping banadages clinging to his wrists.

"I know."

"You won't forgive me?"

"No. I can't. You did this to yourself. You hated me enough to want to leave me. You've left me here alone. I won't forgive you. I won't live for you, either. Nor will I die for you. I'll never do anything for you again, Jared. Never. You killed us long before you killed yourself."

"I love you."

"I don't believe you. I don't believe anything you say. Your words are shit and you know it. Your final words will be lies just as your first words to me were all lies."

"I told you you were beautiful. I didn't lie. You are beautiful. And even now that you speak so hatefully to me I still know you're a beautiful person within as well. You're the most beautiful person I have ever met."

"Apparently I'm not good enough."

"No... don..."

"Stop! Just stop!" Her voice was shrill and though no tears made their way down her cheeks they could be heard in her screams. "Don't you dare say another word. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear anything about what I am or what I have meant to you or anything from you! I want you to die, Jared. I want you to die and let me rest from this torment. I don't want to worry or wonder anymore. Even in our happiest moments I was frightened because I was just waiting for you to do this again. I'm tired of waiting. Die! Just die!" She was yelling as loud as she could manage but it still wasn't enough. She slung her fists into the door and began beating it until the wood splintered and cracked. Her own blood now stained his room, as well. It was fitting.

"You're right. I know I should die. I deserve to die. Your life would be easier if I weren't here." His words arose an anger in her like she had never known and she whirled on him, her eyes glowing red and small flames flying out onto the wooden floor, but dying quickly in the pools of blood.

"I would have been happier with you in my life if you wouldn't be like this. If you would just be happy, too. Just be happy and appreciate all that you have. Get off you're ass and see something good in the world. See something good in me. I wanted to make your life worth living. I wanted to make you happy enough, but I can't. If you had just been happy, Jared, I would have had the most wonderful life I could have wanted for anyone. I would have had my best friend there for me rather than having to constantly be there at his bed side trying to make the bleeding stop. I could have had someone to share good times with. I could have had someone to watch my children grow with me. I could have been happy, but you wouldn't let me. You didn't want me to be happy. Don't you understand? You could be wonderful but you chose to be horrible. Why would anyone do that? How could anyone hate the world enough to do that?" And now she was on the floor, completely unaware of the fire that had come from within her, and she slumped over heaving out stomach acid as she had not been able to eat for days. Her words made his heart burst with guilt and pain. He had not meant it. He hadn't realized; he hadn't understood until now. He would never have a chance to fix it. He had cut too deep this time. His last breath was spent as he struggled to tell her he was sorry and he loved her, but he could not get the words out. All he could manage was a sigh and a terrified look as he saw what awaited him in the next life. It was nothing he would ever want to see, nothing he wanted to experience. It was entirely the opposite of Lilliana.

Only she and one other attended the funeral of Jared Shalinom. It was nothing special, nothing at all large. He would not have recieved one at all and would likely have been heaped into a pit with twenty or thirty other bodies, but she would not allow that and thus financed the ceremony herself as well as arranging for him to have his own plot on the conditon that it remain unmarked. She did not think that he would mind the condition as much as she did for no one would ever know or care to know his name after her. She had not been alarmed when his family didn't come and when she saw the dark, lean figure making its way toward the burial sight she felt certain that it was headed to some grave further on. The figure stopped however and placed a single red rose alongside the coffin. When the ceremony was through she could not make her curiousity subside.

"You knew Jared?"

"Somewhat."

"I was surprised to see anyone else attend."

"Oh?" His curt responses did little for her mood.

"How did you know him?"

"Through some friends. We did a couple of jobs together."

"Jobs?" She raised one eyebrow at the comment and looked over his attire again. He was obviously of nobilty of some sort.

"Your name is Lilly, is it not?"

"Yes. How did you..?"

"He told me about you. He spoke of you all the time. Anyone he came into contact with knows he had a girl named Lilly."

"I wasn't his girl."

"Oh no? Well then. You must have been a very close friend."

"If you don't mean anything vulgar by that, yes I am."

"You were. He's dead."

"Well, yes, I suppose so."

"There's no supposing about it. He's dead and he's been buried and he'll never be seen or heard from again."

"You don't have to be so.."

"My name is Julian Du'Morte." He cut her off. Lilliana had no idea why this man had come to Jared's funeral, nor was she entirely certain how he knew of her friend, but she was depressed and hungry and decided to accompany him for a while. That while turned into a week and Lilly finally found herself someone she could trust and someone she could love who she believed would never leave or intentionaly hurt her. Julian, recently out of a horrible relationship, discovered in Lilly what he thought might be either a demon or an angel for her seeming perfection left him breathless. She never completely left his thoughts and even her shortcomings made his adoration of her grow. She was not like other women, he was not like other men, and they had the potential to make an extraordinary love.

She had never been the kind to be unfaithful. In fact, she was one of the few known for her virtues rather than her sins. When she saw her fiance drunken and in the lap of another woman, a naked woman, however, she felt that her exploits would not be considered unfaithfulness. They were, rather, the public anouncement of the cancelation of her wedding. The dress was sultry and highly distasteful in regards of polite society, but Arabella knew if there were any here who might recognize her they would not dare voice it for fear of revealing their late night excersions as well. Her breasts were pushed up by the whale bone bodice and nearly entirely exposed by the low cut blue dress, yet when she walked into the tavern she was easily singled out for her attire still outshone that of anyone present. Arabella tilted her head to one side curiously as she observed the surroundings. Feeling more than uncertain and overwhelmingly uncomfortable the thought of turning home and crying over the loss edged its way into her mind, but then the sight of a woman, her dress pulled down to her waist, twisting a customer's hair with her fingers brought back the flood of anger that had led Arabella to the tavern in the first place. She tossed her head and strode among the men and women toward the bar with as much confidence and arrogance as a queen, the disdain in the eyes of everyone who watched her falling unoticed at her feet.

"I'll have a..." she stopped a moment realizing her usual order was probably not only unavailable here but would likely get her kicked out for even mentioning it. "Port." She finally decided, as it was one of the few lower class ales she knew by name. The noise of the bar, which normally would have made her head ache, was welcomed and pleasent because of its remarkable ability to drown out any hurtful or angry thoughts one might have. This was certainly the apropriate place to come when forgetfullness was the desired goal. It was a relief to know there were those here who would not recall her presence come the morrow, or their own for that matter.

Lilliana stared at the silhouette of the man before her. The two faced the same direction, both curled up on their right sides with the sheets tossed onto the floor at the foot of the bed. The heat was miserable and her damp skin was met only by still, warm, and equally as damp air. The only relief was the steady breeze of her breath over her chest, which she angled her head downward to recieve the full benefits of. The horses were likely more comfortable than those in the inn; they had tails at least to keep the flies at bay. She now let the flies roam, swatting only those that crawled near her eyes or mouth, too hot and exhausted to care anymore. She could tell by the steady rise and fall of the silhouette that Julian was asleep and by the tingling in her legs that she would not be for quite some time. It had been rare that she recieved a full night's sleep since about a month after she found out about the baby. Restless Leg Syndrom they called it, but to her it was just one more minor discomfort she endured for the sake of her family and had little complaints. She did, however, decide that since she could not sleep she would have something to drink in hopes of cooling down. Being pregnant in such heat tended to make one sick and much more miserable than others. She crawled down to the end of the bed, for on her left there was a wall which the bed was pushed against, and began to get dressed in something light that covered her as little as possible yet still felt decent to make an appearance in.

"Where you goin'?" Julian's groggy voice came in mumbles and had she not known him so well she would have understood nothing of what he said when he was like this.

"To get something to drink, I can't sleep, and to the restroom. If this child kicks my bladder one more time we'll be needing to clean the matress." She said as she walked around to him and kissed his forehead lovingly. She lingered there a moment not for adoration of her husband, though she did adore him, but instead to revel in the feel of the breeze which he blocked when he laid up on his side like that. "I love you." She recieved a series of grunts in return, but still she knew what they meant and was glad that he loved her, too.

The commotion seemed to settle down a great deal all of a sudden and Arabella was most displeased at this as she now had enough quiet to think. She looked around to see what might have caused the change but saw only a young woman, she would guess about six months along, standing in the stairwell at the back in a long silk garment, no bodice, now making her way along the back of the tavern toward the bar. She huffed. Who here would be able to afford such a garment? It was obviously meant to be slept in and she was undecided if she was disgusted or impressed by the woman's comfort coming into such company so scantly clad. She then looked down at her own attire and laughed slightly to herself... she had little room to critisize, but still, at least she had a bodice and sleeves. When the woman re-emerged from the bar she held a large glass of water in one hand, now half drained, and Arabella found herself looking at it longingly. She had been trying to drink the port in tiny sips at a time as she found out on her first large gulp that she could hardly refrain from scrunching up her face in attempt to swallow the poison. That was likely what it was, too, it just happened that such a lot of people could not manage to get anything else. Distilled poison. The heat was almost enough to knock those who were not used to this area over when they exited their coaches and Arabella knew well enough from her mother's latest pregnancy that it made life most unbearable for soon-to-be-mothers.

Arabella took in a deep breath and decided that since she had no other company and this woman was obviously as uncharacteristic to this atmosphere as herself that she would see if the poor thing would like some conversation. She was apparently not the only one with the notion for by the time she was half way to the woman she saw several men doting over her as if she were Helen. She was a lovely woman, her dark raven hair curled wildly about her and down her back. She had large brown eyes and, even in her current state, still sported a more than curvacious figure. Still Arabella thought that the child in the woman's stomach would be somewhat unappealing to men, especially men of these sorts. She caught herself thinking like that for a moment remembering Dorian's behavior. Perhaps men were all the same despite their social status: they were all like dogs in heat. She did not want to look so foolish as to have come half way just to turn around and return to her former place so she continued on despite the men's presence. They seemed too occupied to take much notice of her anyway. The woman looked up and smiled at her and must have sensed Arabella's uneasiness as she shooed the disapointed males back to their usual activities.

Arabella gratefully took a seat and nodded to the woman, who nodded in return. She could feel that her blonde hair was beginning to fall from its tight design and cursed the heat under her breath.

"You don't exactly look the type to come here often." The woman said light heartedly with a hint of sympathy in her voice. Arabella figured she was not the only upper class woman to have had the idea to go trapsing about after a heart break. Trapsing... she must look like a desperate whore. Her cheeks reddened as she was suddenly ashamed of herself but glad she had come to find someone who apparently understood. The woman seemed genuine, which was unlike anyone else Arabella ever came into contact with. Perhaps it was something in her almond eyes or in the wide smile she gave, or maybe it was simply Arabella's desperate need to talk to someone, but something made her seem genuine and like the person you should talk when you have something personal and emotional to say.

"I've never been to a place like this in all my life."

"Fiance turned out to be not quite ready for a monogamous relationship I take it?" Arabella's face must have shown surprise for the woman smiled and glanced down at the ring.

"Oh how stupid of me!" she laughed. "I can't believe I didn't take it off. I should have thrown it at him, but then he was probally to drunk and busy to notice."

"Probally, and now you have right to sell it for a little extra money if you so choose. It serves him right. Sell it and buy something gorgeous with the money. You'll make him crazy." The woman giggled and extended her hand.

"I am Lilliana Du'Morte."

"Du'Morte?"

"I know it's not a very happy name, but I'm quite happy to have it." She responded with a large smile.

"Oh no, it's just, I know a family by the name of Du'Morte."

"Yes, well, it's the same clan, though they have little to do with us. They don't approve of the marriage, you know."

"Marriage?" Arabella said trying to think of who this woman could have married. Lilliana gave her an inquisitive look.

"Do you happen to have a name?"

"Oh! Pardon me, yes. I am Arabella Delonclure." She said taking the woman's hand.

"Ah. Then I supppose you certainly do know the Du'Morte clan. No offense, miss, but if I were you I certainly would never have let Julian get away. Well, obviously." She smiled and looked down, placing the hand she had just shaken with on her stomach. So the woman had married Julian. Arabella was uncertain as to why she was so surprised. Julian was not a discriminating man, nor was he like any man Arabella had ever known. Unfortunately, Arabella's worst mistake was made at the sake of poor Julian's heart, though he seemd to have recovered well enough.

Lilliana was undecided about the woman's thoughts, but she guessed they had something to do with her current misfortune and her treatment of Julian when the two were together. It had taken Lilliana a long time to overcome her own jealously of this woman, or at least this woman's memory, but Julian had insisted that he had always loved Lilly, he had just been too caught up in politics to follow his heart since his heart led him to the slums. Lilly had always had money, but never liked to spend it the way the upper class did. She owned the tavern and that made her enough to be in relatively high social standing, but she had found such standing stuffy to the point of suffocating. She was not a classy girl, at least not at the expense of those who worked harder than any man or woman in fine clothes. She worked hard, she had money, and she had friends who would do anything for her, which was more than most anyone she had ever met could say outside of her husband. He had given up everything for her; he had sacrificed money, land, title, and family to make her his wife. He moved from a castle in which he had his own wing for his bedrooms to a tavern where his bedroom was more like his house as it was where he spent most all of his lesiure time if he wanted away from customers. Sweet Julian worked harder now than he had ever worked in all his life and he was getting ready to be a father. Lilliana felt the twinge of guilt begin to build in her stomach and she said a silent prayer, her usual, that Julian was happy and did not regret his life with her.

"Where is Julian then?" Arabella's voice broke the silence and the intense thoughts of both women.

"He's upstairs asleep. I haven't really been able to sleep well. Restless Leg Syndrom. It makes me to where I can hardly stand to lie still."

"I know, my mother had it with her last pregnancy."

"Poor woman." Lilliana said with more empathy than she had intended. "Don't mistake me. I wouldn't change a thing, but there are some discomforts of this whole ordeal that do try the body and mind."

"I understand, don't worry. I had hoped to have a child within the next year or two, but that dream died earlier tonight as well. Are all men the same?"

"Most."

"I swear they're like dogs in heat!" She vocalized her thoughts from earlier, needing some reassurance.

"Well, they are more like male dogs. They don't have to have a season or even a female dog. They'll hump just about anything." Both women laughed. "Seriously though, not all men are like that. Look at Julian; he'd die before cheating on me or before degrading a woman's integrity. There's someone out there for you, you just have to go to hell and back, not to mention through about two hundred relationships, before you find him." There was a slight pause. "But you will find him, you know."

"I hope you're right." Arabella commented wistfully as memories of Julian and her treatment of him began a torturous dance inside her head. She looked to the woman whom she felt so compelled to speak with, confide in, and possibly even be friends with. Her eyes drifted to the woman's stomach and Arabella could not help but think of Julian making a child with her. He deserved someone like her, someone as wonderful and considerate as he was, but still the pang of jealousy in her gut told her that should she become friends with this woman there would always be a bridge distancing the two that she doubted could ever be destroyed. It would be, at best, overlooked.


End file.
